“Both of you?”
“Yes,” he says, looking at me intensely from above.
“Eric . . .”
“Easy . . . sweetness . . . Your little ass is ready. Helga will use a much smaller dildo in the harness, and we’ll go into your precious behind ever so slowly. She’ll prepare the way for me. It won’t hurt, and then I’ll take her place.”
“Eric . . .”
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes . . .”
“Do you trust me?”
“Always, you know that,” I whisper as the water continues to fall on us.
He grins and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips.
“I like knowing that.”
A spasm runs through my body. Eric turns off the water and dries me with a towel.
“Everything will be fine. I promise that you will enjoy it.”
We go back into the bedroom. Helga is sitting on a chair with a glass of champagne in her hand. I check out her harness. This time it’s red, and the dildo is much smaller and thinner. She does not come to us. She simply watches.
As soon as we get to the bed, Eric climbs on and sits in the middle. He winks at me, which makes me smile.
“Come on, Miss Flores,” he says, signaling that I should straddle him. “Mount me.”
Turned on, I do as he says. In a matter of seconds, he turns over on the bed and is on top of me. He kisses me. He caresses me. He says marvelous and sweet words of love and makes sure to satisfy each and every one of my desires. His mouth kisses my neck, licks my breasts, sucks my navel, and kisses my mound.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers.
His voice. His deep voice drives me crazy. I open my legs, and he knows what I want. He licks me and rubs his chin on my sex; finally, he opens my labia and hunts down my clitoris. He surrounds it with his tongue, rolls it with his lavish lips, tugs on it. I moan as I feel a thousand sensations.
“Eric . . .”
His large hands cover my body, and as his mouth plays between my legs and fills me with pleasure, his fingers grab my nipples. He pinches them and pulls on them to make them surge. Losing all reason, I lift my legs to his shoulders and squeeze against him. He grabs my thighs and crushes my sex to his mouth. Eric’s possession is complete. It is magnificent.
Drenched in my juices, he returns to my mouth. His taste, which is my taste, is sweet. As he kisses me, I notice his hard erection between my legs. I want it, and before I even ask, he gives it to me. He turns and fills me with his penis. My cry of delight makes him smile.
“Look at me,” I demand.
Four times, he thrusts; thrilled, I open up for him. Eric is so big that he makes me pant and cry out. Suddenly, he grabs me by the hips, and I’m straddling him. Now I’m the one who keeps the beat. I’m the one who quivers on top of him as he looks at me with eyes of love.
I feel the bed sink behind me and realize it’s Helga. Eric takes ahold of my chin.
“Lie down on top of me, sweetness . . . and relax,” he whispers, his penis still rigid inside me.
I do as he says and feel Helga rubbing something wet and warm on my ass. Lube. Eric opens my ass cheeks to help her out, and when he sees the anxiousness on my face, he moves his hips to penetrate me farther.
“All mine . . . tonight you will be all mine.”
Helga places the vibrator at the very threshold of my anus and draws circles with it. Over and over until I realize she’s begun to enter me. Eric kisses me. He bites my lips, my chin, as Helga penetrates me.
The intrusion in my ass forces me to move, and that motivates Eric, who’s still inside me. His enormous penis moves slowly and carefully as Helga advances inch by inch. Suddenly, Helga makes a brusque movement that causes me to scream. I feel pain . . . but it disappears as Eric moves.
“It’s OK . . . It’s over, love . . . Like that . . . Just let go . . . Relax so you’ll dilate and be able to receive me.”
Helga’s body is completely glued to my butt. She gives me a little slap.
“You’re totally penetrated, Judith. Move.”
Eric does it for me.
What I feel in that instant when I’m penetrated in both my ass and my vagina is hallucinatory. Following Eric’s movements, Helga starts to come in and out of me. My ass soon feels full from the vibrator swelling as it comes in and out. I’m so lubricated, I hear the lube smack while she holds on to my waist and penetrates me over and over.
Four hands have me by the waist and move me around however they like. Forward . . . back . . . forcefully . . . tenderly . . . softly . . . hard. I see Eric’s face, and I think he’s going to explode. But suddenly, they both pull out of me. Eric comes up behind me and slowly penetrates me through the same channel Helga just exited. Eric’s erection is nothing like the dildo; yet what at first made me scream suddenly fits perfectly, and I pant as Eric murmurs in my ear.
“Now you’re finally all mine . . . all mine . . .”
“Yes . . .”
“Oh, babe . . . you’re so tight . . . so tight . . .”
He once more squeezes his hips against me, and I hiss with pleasure. My God . . . I love what he does, what he says to me. It drives me crazy to feel him shaking as he does it. He’s containing himself. I know he wants to just ram me. I move my hips and push myself at Eric. He’s clenching his teeth.
“Hard . . . do it hard.”
“No . . . I don’t want to hurt you.”
But my desire is wild, and I shove my ass forcefully up against him and scream as I feel the totality of his erection.
“Don’t be foolish, love . . . You’re going to hurt yourself.”
He doesn’t take his penis from my ass but moves his hands to my vagina. He opens my labia, and when he squeezes my clit, I move . . . I whimper . . . and I search for more depth. Eric gives it to me. Every time he comes in and out, there’s greater comfort. His finger squeezes my clit again and I shriek. Minutes pass and we remain fused. I don’t want him to finish. I only want for him to keep on squeezing himself against me and for this bliss to never end. Finally, he gets some speed up, and even though these thrusts aren’t as strong or as deep as what he does in my vagina, a savage orgasm takes over me, and I scream as I push up against him. Eric comes too and then removes his penis and rolls to the side. On the way, he grabs me as my convulsions continue, and he hugs me.
“I love you, Jude,” he says. “I love you like I never thought I would ever love.”
65
The following morning, when I wake up, I’m alone and naked in our enormous bed.
I see the suit Eric was wearing last night thrown carelessly on a chair, and my dress not far from it. I smile and sigh. For a while, I just lie there and do a mental review of the last few months with him. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. I don’t want the ride to ever end.
My cell buzzes. It’s my father, telling me he’s going back to Jerez. I call him to say goodbye, and I smile, recalling how happy he was last night. He and Eric have made a good connection, and that’s very important to me. We agree to see each other at Christmas. I’ll say goodbye to him over the holiday and then fly out to my love in Germany.
After I hang up with him, I leave my cell on the nightstand. I see the jar of lube, and I close my eyes. I still can’t believe I’ve done the things I’ve done. Never in my life would I have imagined having with any other man the kind of lust-filled sex I have with Eric. Every day I understand more and more what Eric once explained to me about curiosity and experimentation. That kind of thirst and inquiry can take you to unexpected places.
In the past few months, I’ve had sex in every way imaginable, and Eric has shared me with men and women. If someone had said to me a year ago that I would do all this, I’d have thought they were nuts. But no. Here I am, naked in Eric’s bed, ready to indulge both his fantasies and mine.
I get up, and when I sit, I grimace because my ass hurts. I go straight to the shower. When I come out, Eric is sitting on the bed. He’s turned o
n some music, and seeing me, he grins.
“What’s wrong?”
“My asshole hurts.”
He flinches. “Love . . . I told you to be careful,” he says in a low voice.
“God, Eric . . . I think I’m going to have to sit on a cushion.”
Eric laughs, but he sees right away that I’m serious.
“Sorry . . . sorry.”
Very carefully, I sit on the bed, and before he can say anything, I lift a finger in warning. “And not one single joke about this, understood?”
“Understood.”
Then, suddenly, a song comes on that makes us both laugh. Eric pushes me down on the bed.
“Like the song says, ‘I’m dying to kiss you.’”
He kisses me. I’m enjoying the kiss, when the phone rings. Eric lets me go and picks up the phone. He has a brief conversation and hangs up.
“It was my mother. She’ll meet us at twelve thirty at the hotel restaurant.”
“For lunch?”
“Yes.”
“This tourist schedule is going to kill me,” I say. “I think I’d rather have breakfast.”
“I know, love, but she goes back to Munich this afternoon, and she wants to have a meal with us,” Eric responds.
“All right,” I say. “Do you have ibuprofen or something like that?”
“Yes . . . in my toiletry bag,” Eric says as he laughs and goes to get it. “Don’t worry, love. The chairs at the restaurant are very, very soft.”
That little joke makes me snort. Still in pain, I get up and open the dresser. I have a pair of jeans and a torn T-shirt, but I can’t find what I’m looking for. “Goddamn it, I don’t even have underwear!”
“Come on, love.” Eric consoles me with a hug.
“I’m sorry, but you tear all my panties, and my provisions here are at a minimum, and now I don’t have one damned piece of underwear to put on. And you really can’t think I’m going to go have lunch with your mother without underwear, can you?”
He hands me the ibuprofen. “She’s not going to know. What’s the problem?”
I grab one of his clean Calvin Klein boxers and put them on. Eric looks surprised.
“Whoa! Even in boxers you turn me on. Come here.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Come here.”
“I said no . . . Your mother is waiting for us for lunch.”
“Come on, babe, there’s time!”
At that precise moment, Eric’s cell buzzes. I point it out to him, but he has a very clear idea about what he wants. And what he wants is me.
I run through the room and climb onto the bed, but he grabs me. He throws me down, and I laugh shamelessly. He kisses me with great exuberance as he laughs and peels off the boxers. He unbuttons his pants, and without taking off his underwear, he penetrates me and I lock on to him. We look each other in the eye, and as he pumps in and out of me, he whispers sweet words in my ear that drive me crazy.
After our quickie, we get dressed. Between laughter and kisses, I put on the boxers, my jeans, and the torn T-shirt. I hear the buzzing of messages on his cell again, insisting. After giving me a delicious kiss on the lips, he goes to deal with them. We are so happy right now, so in love, and so ready to start our new lives together.
So why does the constant buzzing of his phone feel so ominous?
A SNEAK PEEK AT TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, NOW AND ALWAYS
As soon as I leave the office, I race home as if someone put a rocket up my ass. When I look at all those moving boxes, my heart just shatters. Everything’s gone to shit. My trip to Germany is canceled, and for the moment, my life is as well. I grab a few things and stuff them into my backpack before Eric can find me. My cell buzzes and buzzes and buzzes. I refuse to pick up. I don’t want to talk to him.
Ready to disappear, I go to a nearby restaurant and call my sister. I make her promise she won’t tell anybody where I am, and we agree to meet.
I spot Raquel when she arrives, and I call her name. She responds, and after giving me a hug because she knows I need it, she listens. I tell her only part of the story, because I know otherwise I’d leave her speechless. I omit the part about sex, but Raquel is Raquel, and when things don’t add up for her, she starts in. “You’re crazy!” “Eric is a good guy!” “How could you do this?” In the end, I say goodbye, and in spite of her insistence, I don’t tell her where I’m going. I know her, and she’d tell Eric the minute he contacts her.
When I manage to shake my sister, I call my father. We have a brief conversation, and I tell him that in a few days, I’ll come to Jerez and explain everything that’s happened. Then I climb into my car and head for Valencia. I stay at a hostel there for three days. I stroll on the beach, sleep, and cry. I don’t answer Eric’s calls.
On the fourth day—now feeling a bit more relaxed—I drive to Jerez, where my father receives me with open arms and gives me all his love. I tell him my relationship with Eric is over for good, but he doesn’t want to believe me. Eric has called him, worried, several times; according to my father, that man loves me too much to let me go. Poor Papá. He’s a hopeless romantic.
When I get up the next day, Eric is at my father’s house. My father called him. Eric tries to talk to me, but I refuse. I’m furious . . . I reproach him about everything I have inside until I slam the door in his face and seal myself in my room. In the end, I hear my father asking him to go and, at least for the moment, to let me breathe. My father knows that I can’t reason now and, rather than solve anything, forcing me to talk would only make things worse.
Eric comes back to my bedroom door and, his voice charged with tension and anger, tells me he’s returning to Germany! He insists once more that I come out of my room, but when I don’t, he finally leaves.
Two days go by, and my anguish persists. It’s impossible to forget Eric and more so when he’s constantly calling me. I don’t respond. But because I’m a pure, hard masochist, I listen to our songs all the time so I can wallow in my pain. The only positive things about all this are that I know he’s far away and, even better, I have my motorcycle to help lift the fog, to get all muddy while jumping around the fields of Jerez.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2015 Carlos Santana
Megan Maxwell was born in Nuremberg, Germany, to an American father and a Spanish mother. She grew up in Spain, where she still lives, and is one of the country’s most prolific and well-known romance writers. She began writing stories for her friends and family, who encouraged her to try to publish. It took twelve years for the release of her first book, but since then, she’s written many more as well as contributed to anthologies and magazines. She writes romantic comedy, chick lit, fantasy, erotica, and children’s stories. Among her many awards is the Seseña International Prize for Romance Literature.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Photo © 2017 Megan Bayles
Achy Obejas is the author of the critically acclaimed novels Ruins, Days of Awe, and three other books of fiction. With Megan Bayles, she edited Immigrant Voices: 21st Century Stories. She also edited and translated the anthology Havana Noir, and has translated Junot Díaz, Wendy Guerra, Rita Indiana, Adam Mansbach, Ena Lucía Portela, and many others. In 2014, she was awarded a USA Ford Fellowship for her writing and translation. Born in Havana, she wrote The Tower of the Antilles, her most recently released collection of stories. For more info, go to www.achyobejas.com.
Megan Maxwell, Tell Me What You Want
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